


give myself completely

by haloud



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Alex Manes, Emotional Sex, Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:27:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haloud/pseuds/haloud
Summary: Alex and Michael give each other exactly what they need.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 17
Kudos: 174





	give myself completely

**Author's Note:**

> title comes from the heart is a muscle by gang of youths

“I need you.”

Michael’s hands are everywhere, fingertips sliding and catching across Alex’s back, arms tight around him, his mouth hot and heady against Alex’s neck, against his face and his mouth and down to his chest and back up again. He’s near-delirious with it, pressing his body against Alex’s like any breath of space between them is a burden too heavy to bear.

And Alex needs him too. He _needs_ him, over him, around him, inside him, strong hands on his body, stubble burning against his skin, the power in his muscles and the _realness_ of his body drowning out everything, everything else.

“Alex.”

Alex gasps in a burning breath and nods, nods desperately, clawing up Michael’s shirt to get at the skin underneath, not stopping for a second to help as Michael does the same to him, not until Michael’s rough knuckles scrape the flat of his stomach as he fumbles with the button of Alex’s jeans, the sensation making Alex’s back arch and eyes squeeze shut, cutting out a sharp cry to the ceiling.

“Alex, Alex,” Michael says, soft and loud all at the same time, like he can’t believe it’s true, like he doesn’t know what god to thank or how to take what Alex gives.

Whining wordlessly, Alex arches harder and squirms his jeans down past his thighs, Michael’s hands following the rub of denim, cupping his hips and pulling him back in closer, climbing over him to crash their mouths together, drive his tongue in and drink deep, and Alex opens his mouth in return and breathes, and breathes, and breathes.

Michael’s hands cup Alex’s face, then, and his kiss goes gentle and soft and Alex bucks up his hips in protest but Michael’s lips skim up from the tip of his nose to between his eyes to his forehead and he murmurs, “Open up, Alex, open your eyes, wanna see you, wanna see every single part of you.”

It’s too much to ask, but Alex could never say no to a request like that, said like that in a voice so low and loving, and Michael thanks him with another delicious, drowning kiss, and hands trailing back down his body, warming him back up.

Alex holds on, one hand wrapped in those curls, one hand scratching at Michael’s chest, until Michael moves down and he has to cling on for dear life to his shoulders instead, as Michael kisses and nips at his collarbones, his nipples, as Michael fits one blazing hand around his ribs, the other down to nudge his waistband down further, knead his ass in a way that makes Alex’s spine go liquid and hot, makes his thighs fall open even further to get Michael deeper in between them.

One of Michael’s fingers slips to run teasing along the crack of Alex’s ass. Alex digs his nails in, and Michael laughs.

“I know, I know, no teasing,” he says. It rumbles through his chest and all through Alex’s body, and Alex, impatient, frots against his stomach, hooking his leg around one of Michael’s for leverage. Michael leans in, presses Alex bodily against the mattress, and Alex arches up into that too, just to feel himself being held down.

It feels good. So fucking good. So hot, soft and rough all at once wherever their skin rides together, secure in the weight and the solidity of him. Michael…

“ _Michael,_ ” he gasps, when he sucks on a finger and brings it to breach Alex’s hole just slightly, the barest burn for all he said _no teasing,_ and Alex rolls his forehead along the sweaty line of Michaels throat to sink his teeth into the place where it meets his shoulder, wrenching a groan from Michael’s mouth.

“Needy.”

“ _Yes._ ”

“I’ve got you.” Michael summons the lube from the bedside table, slicks up his fingers. “I’ll give you everything you need, fill you up. _Alex_.”

And he _does,_ slides two fingers into him slowly, in gentle, inching thrusts, making Alex roll back into that gorgeous, glorious burn, and stretch, and _sensation,_ and Alex leans into the cradle of Michael’s shoulder again to suck tiny bruises into his skin, to gasp out tiny hitching moans of pleasure as Michael strokes him open and loose, pulling away only to apply more lube, to stretch him out on a third finger, and it feels so fucking _good,_ so fucking right, Alex’s hips jerking every time Michael drags his fingers against his prostate, he doesn’t even whine at how _long_ Michael takes to work him open, how he watches Alex’s face with slitted, ravenous eyes. Alex wants to shy away from that gaze, but he doesn’t, lets himself be doused in it instead, emotion filling up his chest until he has to throw his head back, hand slipping on Michael’s bicep, to let it out through his throat.

“Nnh, fuck, ready, I’m ready.”

“I know you are, babe, you just feel so good, wanna make you feel so good.”

“ _Ah!_ Michael—”

Michael’s arm wraps around Alex’s waist, and then Alex is moving, tugged upright, anchored at points only by Michael’s body, his hands, Alex’s legs splayed on either side of Michael’s hips, and Alex gasps and shudders at the cool air on his heated skin, until Michael rubs his back in long passes, warming him up as he clings on with his arms around Michael’s neck.

Reaching down, Michael braces him, lifts him just an inch or two, and Alex lets him, lets himself be moved and positioned and molded by Michael’s hands, then his eyes fall shut again, pulled under by the _heat,_ the _finally,_ the stretch of Michael’s cock sinking into him, so good a tremble rolls from the top of his spine to his ass to his thighs. With one hand Alex grips his own cock at the base to keep from coming, the other scratching desperately against Michael’s pec, trying to say with his fingers what won’t come out of his mouth.

“Michael, Michael, ah, ah, _ah—_ ”

“I know, I know, I’ve got you, I’ve got you, fuck, Alex—”

Like this, Alex has no leverage, but he doesn’t need it, doesn’t even try, just writhes in Michael’s lap, muscles rippling in his stomach and lower, as Michael fucks him in short, sharp thrusts and kisses him, always kisses him, open mouthed and devouring, sweet and long. Their foreheads roll together, their eyes meet and hold and snap away to surrender to the pleasure, to—

The angle keeps constant pressure on Alex’s prostate, sparking through his blood, heart pounding in his chest, he digs his knees into Michael’s sides, drops his weight back into the ironclad hold of Michael’s arms around his back, holding him so carefully, so close.

And through it all, Michael watches him, unable to tear his eyes away.

And Alex surrenders to it, to the pleasure wracking through his body, playing all over his face, and Alex is raw, stripped away and open, every trembling part of him put in Michael’s hands and it feels so fucking _good._

Michael pets along the line of his spine, down to his tailbone and up to the nape of his neck where he grabs on and kneads the stiff muscle there, and Alex goes if possible even looser in his arms, letting out a loud, sweet moan.

“Alex, my god, I love you, I love you so much.”

“ _Michael,_ fuck me, _fuck,_ I’m close, fuck me!”

Michael buries his face in Alex’s neck, fucks him harder, every breath that puffs across Alex’s blazing slick skin a soft sob of pleasure, gripping Alex hard enough to leave fingertip bruises, and he comes with a short cry, filling Alex up even more.

Then Michael’s hand comes down, fumbles right alongside Alex’s to stroke him off, Alex clenching his tired muscles around the glorious pressure still inside him until he comes hard and fast streaking across Michael’s belly, all the tension going out of him at the same time, leaving him limp and sated in Michael’s hold.

They stay like that, forehead to forehead, breath to breath, until the aftershocks stop. Then Michael lowers Alex to the bed so gently, and wraps him in blankets, and wraps him in his arms, and they rest together, nothing else in the world mattering at all.


End file.
